Birdy woke slightly as she shifted in her sleep only to hear a low, deep growl in the darkness.

"Where were you tonight?" Creed asked slowly.

Still somewhat asleep, Birdy's reply was a groggy, "Hmm?" A violent jerk pinning her shoulders to the bed was the answer back, shocking her from sleep.

"I said I wanna know where th' fuck you were tonight while I was out."

Blinking in the darkness, Birdy replied, "Boss, I went to dinner with Maria. I came straight back to the room. What's'a matter with you?"

Yanking Birdy into a sitting position, unconcerned with her current condition, Creed threatened quietly, "Yer fuckin' lyin' an' we both know it. I can smell him on you. An' I can smell how much you like it so don't fucking play games with me!"

Has he totally lost it? Birdy thought to herself. He thinks I was getting aroused by... Tony? "Wait, Boss. You got it all wrong. It wasn't Tony. I swear. It was..."

"You fuckin' around with someone else then? Don't you know by now you belong to me?!" He shook her to emphasize his point.

"Now you lay off, Mister Creed. You don't have all your ducks in a row so don't accuse me of anything!" Birdy pushed back against him, trying unsuccessfully to remove herself from his grip.

"Yer knocked up an' whorin' around like the fuckin' dirty bitch you are," he sneered bitterly. Anger quickly took over and in a moment of frustration Birdy slapped Creed across the face. The unexpected suddenness of the assault momentarily stunned Sabretooth allowing Birdy a chance to break from his grasp. Throwing off the covers, she got up from the bed. Victor reached out snagging her by the wrist and held her in place as he climbed from the bed.

"Where d'ya think yer goin'? I ain't done with you yet." He tightened his grip forcing a cry of surprise from Birdy, her arm twisting awkwardly to compensate for the pain.

"You're wrong, Mister Creed. I didn't have anything to do with Tony. You're being paranoid. It was just me and Maria. Now lemme go or I'll blast you one." Birdy fought back tears of frustration. She had thought they were beyond this. That by her willingness to carry his child had somehow calmed their tumultuous relationship. Whereas before it seemed more like master and slave, four months after she discovered she was pregnant they had settled into an eerie tranquility with each other.

"Do it an' you'll get double back," he promised quietly. Victor was in no mood to be threatened and certainly not by Birdy, of all people. She had gone out with a man he expressly told her she was not allow to see and then she was so stupid as to not even hide the fact that the scent of her arousal still clung to her skin.

Birdy held his gaze, not hinting that she was building her power up to ensure a powerful mindblast. The only outward sign was her slow intake of breath. But by this time, Victor had curled his free hand into a fist, ready to strike before she had the chance to hit first. Knowing that if someone didn't attack, they'd stand there until someone did, Birdy summoned her power and attaching a mental acknowledgment of what really happened with Tony, she slammed into Victor's mind.

Sabretooth's mind became a torrent of pinpricks and fire as Birdy used her power against him. But before the psi-blast could render him unconscious, he swung his free arm out, connecting with the side of Birdy's head. The force of the hit sent Birdy slamming into the wall. She slid to the floor unconscious.




Victor Creed woke moments later, seated on the floor, his back propped against the side of the bed. He shook his head to clear the last traces of fogginess from it. He underestimated how powerful a blast Birdy would dare use against him. He could still feel a tingling at the base of his skull that faded down his spine. He rubbed the back of his neck to massage away the remnants of sensation left by the telepathic attack. He groaned wearily as he stood and ambled over to where Birdy lay, still unconscious on the floor.

He dropped down into a crouch next to her still form. With one hand he reached up to the nearby nightstand, turning the light on, bathing the room in a delicate glow. He traced a finger along her right temple. The skin felt warmer there, the blood rising to the surface of the skin where he had hit her, but thankfully, hadn't broken the skin. She'd hold it against him if he'd actually drawn blood. Gently he turned her head and it lulled against the wall. He examined the left side of her head where it had come in contact with the wall. Victor shook his head and grimaced, "Ya never listen, do ya, girl?" He heaved a sigh into the quiet room, studying her for a moment longer just to be sure she was still breathing.

Careful of Birdy's pregnant belly, Victor gently picked her up and set her on the bed. Checking her over one last time he felt a pang of guilt for hitting her. They'd made a deal and even though he felt it was her fault he broke his end of the bargain, he couldn't help but feel a little sorry. After all, he didn't want his kid to end up brain damaged just because he couldn't control himself or because Birdy had a smart mouth and just didn't know when to shut up. Oh well. It was in the past and there was nothing he could do about it now.





The morning sun cascaded through the still-open patio doors of the hotel suite. Birdy rubbed a hand wearily over her eyes, moaning as a slight throb on both sides of her head registered. Blinking the sleep from her eyes and yawning appreciatively, Birdy stretched a little, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She sat there for a long moment, trying to wake up, when she heard a grunt behind her. She turned to look, finding Victor still deeply entrenched in sleep. Shrugging, she got up and headed for the bathroom to assess the damage she could feel on her temples.


Squinting at the amount of natural light flooding the room, Birdy examined the darkening bruise on her right temple that faded back into her hairline. Her bottom lip began to quiver and her brow was knitted tightly. She closed her eyes and braced herself against the cool, marble counter. Her head began to hurt, tears fighting for release. But she wouldn't cry. She'd be damned before she cried because of him. Inhaling a calming breath, Birdy sniffed gently and straightened herself up. She started up the shower, with a hand on her stomach to reassure herself that she was okay, she waited for the water to heat up to a comfortable temperature. She let her short, satin nightgown slip to the floor with a whisper. Then she stepped into the shower, gently closing the glass door.




Victor woke slowly with a muffled grunt. Brusquely rubbing a hand over his face, he rolled onto his back, relishing in the simple pleasure of cooler sheets in a new position. He lay there, staring at the ceiling and listening to the sound of water hitting the soft skin of his woman. His pregnant woman, he reminded himself. He closed his eyes and sighed.

After the psi-blast, he had realized that it wasn't Tony who had caused Birdy's arousal. It was him. His instincts had told him one thing and his brain had gotten it all mixed up. That thought bothered him. A lot. He had trusted his instincts for as long as he could remember. But now that Birdy was pregnant, he was second guessing himself left and right.





Birdy stood under the spraying water long after she was fully awake and clean. The hot shower was soothing and she hugged her arms around herself, relishing the comforting warmth. She stroked her hands up and down her arms and rocked back and forth slightly. Only then did she let her tears flow.

She wouldn't let this change anything, she promised herself. Creed was a crazy sonofabitch. But she knew that going in. Sure, the pregnancy was an accident, but she was staying pregnant because she wanted this baby. Plain and simple. She was a lot tougher than most people thought. She knew that. Creed knew it, too.

The hot water began to wane, and she stood under the shower, letting the tepid water turn cold. She breathed deeply, the now icy spray invigorating her. Birdy reached down and gripped the antique porcelain handles and turned off the waterflow. She stepped out of the shower, toweled off, and wrapped herself in the luxury "her" robe provided by the hotel.

She walked into the suite's bedroom. Victor was awake and he watched her as if he'd willed her into the room. He was reclining in the bed, gloriously displayed against the Romanesque bedding and pillows. "Thought you might be drownin' in there, Birdy."

She sighed and moved to the chaise lounge furthest from the bed. She took a small fluffy towel and began to dry her hair, keeping a wary eye on her adversary. Creed smiled slightly and climbed out of the huge bed. Taking a moment to slip on his boxers -- a gesture not lost on Birdy -- he walked over to her. He towered over her sitting form, so in an effort to have an equal interchange, he crouched next to the lounge. Now they could see eye to eye.

He wasn't a man to beat around the bush. He didn't now.

"You okay, girl? No concussion or bleedin'?" She didn't answer. She glanced at him and looked away.

"Come on, Birdy," Creed entreated. "Ya oughta feel good. Ya gave me such a blast, I couldn't even remember my own name for a minute or two."

Birdy turned and looked him in the eye. "It's 'rat bastard.'"

He chuckled at her remark, admiring her nerve. "Yeah," he growled softly. "That's it." Now Birdy laughed but quickly stifled it, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

"That's my girl," he soothed, placing his large hands on the little bit of thigh that peeked out from the robe. He moved his hands up her thighs, moving closer to her.

"Don't!" Birdy said sharply, covering his hands with hers in an attempt to stop their upward momentum. "Don't!" she repeated, her voice betraying emotion. "Don't do this, not now. I can't take you knocking me senseless and wanting to make love to me in the same twelve hours. You're crazy enough to like it, but I'm not."

Victor leaned away from her and rested his hands on her knees. "Let me do something for ya, Birdy. Let me give you what you need."

"What I need?" she replied sexily. "You want to give me what I need?"

"Yeah. Whatever you want, baby," he offered, moving towards her for a kiss.

"Whatever I want?" she purred, turning her head as he nuzzled against her soft neck.

"Hell yeah, girl."

"Okay..." she said softly as she opened her legs slightly, revealing her golden thighs and the soft hair between them. Creed smiled slightly, careful to hide his triumph. He kissed her softly.

"Name your pleasure, Birdy."

"Fendi."

"Huh?" he mumbled as he kissed her neck. Birdy's knees made an audible sound as they locked together.

"FENDI," she spoke slowly as if he were mentally challenged. "You know... Fendi? Prada? This IS Italy." Placing the flat of her palms against his chest, she pushed him away from her. "I wanna go shopping. And then there are several museums in Fedors's I want to see. One even has a Michelangelo. And then there's a restaurant the concierge recommended..."

Vic interrupted her. "What makes you think I'll spend the day playing tourist with you?"

She lifted her chin defiantly. "For balance," she challenged.

Creed met her gaze...and smiled. "Okay, Birdy. I'll take you on your little outing. Hell, I could use a couple of new suits myself. But when we get back," he grumbled, "your ass is mine...anyway I want it."

Birdy started to object but caught herself. "You're the boss, Boss." Despite her pregnancy, Birdy gracefully leapt from the lounge and headed for the dressing room. Victor heard her humming to herself as she searched for an appropriate shopping outfit.

He sat on the lounge's edge, watching her. Fair enough, he thought to himself. It was in his self interest to keep Birdy happy...at least for the next few months. He had a keen sense of self preservation, and this kid was his progeny after all. But after that....he'd make no promises. After that, he wouldn't give a rat's ass about balance.